


(for in this deathless sleep) what dreams may come

by smolsarcasticraspberry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A Softer World Prompts, F/M, Prompt Fill, dunno how to describe this except as some kind of abstract experimental thing, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 07:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolsarcasticraspberry/pseuds/smolsarcasticraspberry
Summary: as Allura sleeps away the centuries in the Castle of Lions, the Lions themselves visit her in dreams. they show her visions of the past and the future, and time and time again Allura sees the same handsome man with grey eyes...





	(for in this deathless sleep) what dreams may come

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt request fill for @millennium-queen on tumblr, based on the softer world prompt:
> 
> "i do not believe in love at first sight. But god damn. (Look at you.)"

They say that the slumber of cryosleep is too deep for dreams. But sometimes dreams find her anyway. Or maybe they are not dreams, but scraps of truth torn free from the universe.

+

She dreams of the Lions.

The darkness of her eternal sleep gives way to stars flung across a black void, and the ethereal shapes of Lions standing taller than mountains on the hard ground. The plane stretches away into oblivion, and with some strange clarity she realises that there is no time here. No space or physicality. This is a place caught between the real and the unreal.

+

She dreams of Altea, too, and bright white spires gleaming in the sunshine. Ships that criss-cross the sky like sparkling birds. Delicate bridges of pearly stone, carved like lace, arching over streams of clear water that wend their way through the gardens of the sacred temples.

Pink juniberry flowers, their delicate petals stirring in the breeze, and distant mountains that ring the horizon and seem to be holding up the sky.

A man stands in the garden. His hair is white, like hers, but his ears are oddly shaped. A circlet of gold haloes his forehead, and white marks gleam under his eyes - grey eyes, warm and gentle, that sparkle with mirth as he looks at her. His arm is a prosthetic made of white metal, inset with Altean crystals that glow blue.

She wonders who he is. Where he came from. He looks so strange and yet… so familiar.

This is not a memory. It does not come from the past. And that, too, is strange.

+

Sometimes she goes years between dreams. Years of sleep so deep that her heart slows down to a whisper, and her mind succumbs to unconsciousness and she sees nothing, feels nothing, for decades at a time.

+

She sees the Lions - or rather, the inner forms of the Lions. Their souls, perhaps, if the huge beasts of metal and magic can have such a thing. They call to her - pull her out of the depths of her slumber - show her visions of everything they have seen and felt and touched.

Sometimes, she wanders the starry void between time and space and gazes up at them, huge and comforting, their energy tied to her own. At other times, she rides with them through memories and visions: planets covered in ice or fire; great forests, distant mountains, impossibly high; stars that burn fierce and proud until they consume themselves and die.

+

She sees the man with grey eyes again. He has a scar across the bridge of his nose; and now his hair is dark, and no Altean marks adorn his cheeks.

He wears the armour of the Black Paladin, and holds the bayard in his hand. He looks at her fondly - and yet sadness creeps into his eyes.

In her dream, she is telling him that they cannot keep seeing each other. That they are leaders and fighters and must set an example. He agrees, his expression closed and tight, and she senses that this was not what he wished to hear.

This is not the past. And yet it is so vivid, so clear in her mind, that she doubts it is merely a figment of her imagination.

+

There are no normal dreams in cryosleep. Only the Lions. Only visions.

+

She sees a war. Great ships ride across the stars, purple light gleaming from their hulls, and planets fall before them, shattered and burned…

Galra soldiers, marching in step - and her father's voice, desperate, forlorn, telling her this is the only way, this is how it must be, but he will see her again soon…

She already knows she will not. It has been years. In her dreams, she becomes faintly aware of just how much time has passed, as her body settles deeper and deeper into stasis. She will never see him again.

+

The Lions come to her, calling her onto that astral realm between worlds, and she goes willingly, drawn on by her own curiosity and the strength of the Black Lion's will.

It is Black who comes to her most; Black who embraces her in a feeling of familiarity and comfort. But all the Lions speak to her, to a greater or lesser extent. Not in words, but in thoughts and feelings. She gets to know their moods and their temperaments as the eons pass.

They show her things. And the more they show her, the more she understands.

They are ageless beings caged in metal shells. Time does not touch them; it does not trap them the way it holds mortals in place, pulling them from the past into the future. For the Lions, time is just another realm to explore.

And so sometimes they show her the past. Sometimes, she is trapped with them in a comet, hurtling through space; sometimes she is new-forged and fresh in her powers, roaring into the skies of Altea for the first time; sometimes she is ancient and worn, standing alone in some great cavern, no one for company except the ghosts.

That is not the past, she realises, as her half-conscious mind drifts through the dreams they share with her. That is the future, millennia away.

+

She sees him as a child - tall, slender, frowning up at the stars as if daring them to turn him away.

They call to him. They tug at him like threads, like the hands of eternity, and he runs after them with the earnest clarity of a child who knows his own destiny.

His eyes are the same, which is how she recognises him: their shape so beautiful, so distinctive; the colour of them like the night sky waiting for the stars.

+

The Black Lion calls to her often, in the long stretches of her sleep, and she emerges from the depth of unconsciousness to wander the ghostly plane with the great beast.

She sees things she does not fully understand. A realm of pure white light, overwhelming and yet… sinister, somehow, as if some terrible evil lurks behind the brightness of it all. A future so distant, so alien, that stars orbit close together and planets are torn apart and the Lion stands alone on an asteroid and roars, her metal coat rimed in frost, her eyes blazing yellow as the star in front of her dies…

And then a planet, far away, and the Blue Lion hidden in a cave.

Voices. And… footsteps? And the man, again, his eyes bright with curiosity, a shock of white hair at his brow, a scar across his face. His arm is of a different metal, this time - grey and black - and he looks so much younger than he did when she saw him on Altea.

Odd.

She opens her mouth as if to speak to him, but he vanishes like mist, and she slumbers once more in the Castle.

+

The Red Lion brings her images of the Galra Empire, growing and spreading like poison across the universe, and she sees snatches of it as she emerges into dreams and her heartbeat stutters and she frets in her cryopod. Vast armies in great warships. The flash of blasters and cannons thudding into the ground, and the purple glow of magic, and the sound of blasters firing, people screaming, ships falling from the sky…

Her heart seems to clench in her chest, but everything is so far away… and she is never sure if she is seeing _now_ or if this is the past or the future, and so it all blurs together into a jumble of disconnected images that melt and merge together.

+

She sees the man with the grey eyes again.

A gladiator arena of some kind. Cheering crowds - a mass of faces and bodies, a clamour of voices tumbled over each other - bright lights glaring down at a ring of packed earth. A monster, wielding a weapon that sparks and hums with quintessence.

The man is shoved into the arena. And this time his hair is not white. His face is unscarred. His arm is still flesh and bone. Terror flickers in those beautiful eyes, but he pushes it down, down, somewhere deep within him, and he stares at the beast before him and does not tremble.

Anxiety courses through her, raw and aching, even in her dream state. She longs to stay and see the man fight - but Blue calls to her, tugs at her - and she is back on the plane under the stars, and now she sees something else. Some future vision, maybe? The ruined wreckage of a planet, its white moon shattered in two, and a fleet of ships limping away into the star system.

Her understanding from the Blue Lion is that this is the fate that awaits the planet where Blue is currently hidden. But how far in the future? Or is this already in the past?

+

She dreams of Altea again, and it has been centuries now, but new flowers bloom in a green field and she sees the man with the grey eyes running towards her, chasing a small child with dark skin and white hair, laughing as he catches the child in his arms and swings them around…

+

She rides through space with the Lions - five of them, flying in formation, heading out into the void between stars.

And she wonders where they are going, and why, and what happened to their Paladins - but they are alone out here, just the Lions, speaking mind to mind as they hurtle past the edge of the star system and into the empty reaches of space.

+

A little boy looks up at her. Fair skin, grey eyes sharp with wisdom, dark hair flopping over his temples. He speaks to her, shows her something in his hands. An Altean crystal, glowing faintly white.

Her heart melts at the sight of him, but she cannot be sure if it is the grey-eyed man or some other child. His son, perhaps.

+

Past or future? Future or past?

+

An old man, hair and beard gone white, sitting in a garden, and she sits beside him, her hand resting in his. And a dozen or more children run up to him, laughing and screaming, and he chuckles as they tug on the white metal of his hand.

She wants to tell him to go, to be with them; and yet she also wants him to stay right where he is, beside her, his hand holding hers as if it's been nestled there for years.

They both stand. They stroll through the garden together, half-following all the children, half-following their own ancient feet.

The dream slips away from her, and she scrabbles for it in her mind, trying to cling onto it - that feeling of peace and warmth, of being right where she should be, of belonging so thoroughly and utterly to the world around her…

But it vanishes, and she stands once again on an empty plane overlooked by ageless stars.

+

The Black Lion flies alone towards some star - some red dwarf, ancient and turning cold - and she finds a field of asteroids circling lazily around their aging star.

The other Lions are gone, somehow, and an eerie silence settles in Black's mind in the space where the other Lions' thoughts should be.

She finds an asteroid, spinning slowly. Finds a cave, and flies inside, and lies down on the cold rock floor, her head between her great metal paws.

+

She stands under a canopy of stars, and the man with grey eyes holds her in his arms and kisses her. This is the first time, she realises. He has never kissed her before. And yet it feels so familiar to her, somehow. She sinks into his embrace, her body pressed to his, heart beating wild in her chest, and their lips meet like they were meant to fit together.

He is a stranger. But she kisses him as if she has known him for years; as if she has loved him for centuries. Her fingers brush the hair at the back of his neck and he pulls her close, his arms tightening around her, and this is their first kiss but it feels like they have held each other a thousand times before.

When he pulls away those beautiful eyes are heavy with desire. He opens his mouth as if to say something, his gaze searching her face - but she pulls him back to her, into another kiss, hungry for the feel of his lips against hers.

He does not question it, or protest. His fingers thread into her hair and they merge into each other, the two of them under the stars, falling into the feel of it.

He tastes like desperate desire, and so does she.

+

The Black Lion comes to her again, with a feeling of great wings bursting open, and the man sits at her helm, and his grey eyes blaze with yellow light and the power ripples around him as the Lion roars.

+

A Galra fleet, burning its way across the galaxy, destroying everything in its path.

+

Dead stars, and five Lions flying alone through space, and the Green Lion falls behind, her thoughts sleepy and sluggish somehow, her mind and her great metal body both slowing, aging, running low on power…

+

Water. Oceans, deep and ancient, and strange creatures in the gloom… and a city of bright colours on the ocean floor.

+

Children - Altean children - but Altea is gone, isn't it? Or maybe that is the past. Or the future.

+

Stars pinned to the ink-black sky, and the grey-eyed man stands before her, his eyes so soft, his metal hand curiously warm as it touches hers…

+

A crowd of people, yelling and holding placards and makeshift weapons, and the Galra sentry robots marching towards them and opening fire.

+

Trees. A whole planet covered in trees.

+

A cavern in the side of an asteroid, and the Black Lion lying on the floor, her yellow eyes dim, and then the hum of a ship's engine, the crackle of alien voices over a comm, and the beast stirs, as slow as the shift of continents, because she has slept here in this asteroid for a hundred thousand years…

+

She dreams of the plane, and the strange stars. Black stands before her, and she walks up and presses her hand to the beast's claw. The Lion rumbles, and her eyes blaze yellow.

She understands, deep in her heart, that her sleep will soon come to an end. The Lion knows the time and place. Something has changed, in the world outside her dreams, and she will soon awaken and face a universe that has become a stranger to her.

 _Soon_ , the Lion seems to say. Soon. The dreams will end.

+

She dreams of the man with grey eyes, and she wonders if this is some last parting gift from the Lions.

He stands on a balcony, bathed in early morning sunlight. There is something fresh and vibrant about this dream - something that speaks to the dawn of a new day, the beginning of new possibilities. The room in her dream is decorated in soft white and pink hues; a desk sits in an alcove, and books line the walls, and a small breakfast table stands near to the glass doors that open on to the balcony.

The beautiful grey-eyed man is shirtless, she realises, and her skin seems to tingle.

She gets up from the bed and walks over to him, and her dream-self lays a hand on his bare back. He turns to face her, and smiles, and pulls her into a hug. She finds herself pressed against his bare chest - and this, too, feels peaceful, as if she is supposed to be here, as if this is her home, somehow.

The man with grey eyes leans down to kiss her on the lips. Something about it feels new, and yet she knows that this is something they have done a thousand times before.

"Last night was fun," he says, and his voice also sounds so wonderfully, blissfully familiar.

"Hmm. It was, wasn't it?" She hears herself say it; feels the words leave her lips.

"So are we doing this again?" the man asks. "Properly, this time. No more off and on."

"Is that what you want?" she says.

He runs a hand up her arm and plays with a strand of her hair.

"I think we've run out of reasons not to," he says wryly. "Probably time to admit we'll always end up right back here."

Some tightness in her chest eases, and she leans up to kiss him. His arm tightens around her waist.

"Let's do it, then," she says. "Properly, this time."

He smiles down at her, and it's radiant. "You realise this means we'll have to tell everyone else, right? It has to be different this time. Out in the open. None of this sneaking around."

"The sneaking around was fun, you have to admit."

"Yeah, but I'm getting old and boring." He chuckles, and the sound of it fills her with warmth. "I want to try this exciting new idea where everything is just completely normal. And I get to sleep in the bed next to you without having to sneak out early the next morning."

"Alright," she laughs. "Let's shoot for normal this time around. If we're feeling really daring, maybe we can even manage _mundane_."

"Mundane sounds grand," he says. He kisses her with a smile on his lips, and she sinks into his embrace. Her heart flutters as if this is new, and yet familiar, and yet the start of something, and yet again the continuation of something that has always been. In this strange realm of dreams she senses the past, and its heartache and struggle, and the future with all its infinite promise and joy; she feels all of it in the brush of his lips against hers and the warmth of his chest under her hands.

+

The dream fades, and she is back on the astral plane under the stars.

 _It is time_ , the great beast says.

"Will I remember this?" she asks, into the darkness and bitter cold.

_No. It will fade. You cannot take the memories with you._

A part of her is sad to hear it, but another part is glad, because knowing so much of the past and future would burden her, and she has work ahead. She nods her understanding.

"I'm ready," she says, and she sinks back into the darkness.

+

Thoughts and memories swirl around her, scraps of truth snatched from the web of the universe, shown to her only briefly and now gone.

They fade, one by one and then more, all at once, drifting away into mist. His eyes, his smile… the stars and the planets, the distant future, the past… the sound of children laughing as they run through a field… Until there is nothing but feelings and vague impressions. She rushes upwards, pulled through the layers of consciousness, and the memories scatter as she flies past, up and up and up, and there was something…? Something about a man with grey eyes? And… a child? An asteroid? No, it's gone. It's nothing.

+

The cryopod bursts open. She staggers forward, gasping, disoriented and scared.

The last thing she remembers is her father, and so she calls out for him as she falls forward out of the pod.

A boy catches her. His ears are hideous, and she tells him so before she pins him to the floor and asks who he is, what he's doing here, why her Castle is full of strangers.

"We don't know what you're talking about," says the man in front of her. "Why don't you tell us who you are? Maybe we can help."

He is tall, with a tuft of white hair hanging over his brow, and a scar across his nose, and one arm made of metal. His eyes are grey, and for some reason that detail feels incredibly important.

She trusts him, she realises. She has no reason to. He is a stranger, and she is alone and scared, and nothing is as it was or should be, and yet… she trusts him. She looks into his eyes - like storm clouds, like a night sky awaiting stars - and something stirs in her heart. His presence is strangely comforting. As if she is supposed to be here, and he is supposed to be by her side, and this is exactly where the universe intended her to end up.

She has never believed in love at first sight. But she has no other explanation for this. Why else does he feel so much like coming home? And she knows in her heart that one day she will kiss him under a canopy of stars, and he will smile as he kisses her back, and it will feel perfect and peaceful and right. She does not know how or why, but she will find her way back to a place where they stood together in sunlight and she gave her heart to him for safe keeping.

"I am Princess Allura of Altea," she says, and his eyes light up as if he has waited his entire life to hear her voice.


End file.
